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Home, Ghuey, Sweet Home

This Is It

Someone Burned The Trees

Something More...

I Long For Stars

Max on the max

If This Is Any Art For Which You Care

All Beings Considered

the life and times of Medusa

Make (of) Me A Snow Angel

I Talk To A Machine In My Darkness

Ghost Fox

I See A World

Where None Should Grow

Live Your Life The Best You Can Within Your Own Follicles

My Cat Lived

Live And Let Live

I'm An Old Bad Dog Barking At The Rain

I wonder......

Romance For The Unrefined Mind...


Dog Lives Are Shorter

Now Is My Season

The Metaphor That Keeps On Giving...

A Promise Is

Hunger (Whose Is It?)

In Simpatico

So You Do (May 10, 2010 written for June 1987)

Not Mine


Hello Grief...

What It Means To Go Missing

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doesn't it go by
I can barely remember
how it all passed
some days I wanted
to last
I prayed they didn't
when you're in it
you know
because you feel it
every pulse of it
in your bones
coursing through you
like you were home
at last
what do I crave mostly from my past
the adventure
not the censure
of pleasure
that is now
is not living
that is how
I feel about it
I think most know how to behave
and can intuit
what is right
treat others as you'd like
to be considered
how weird
only yesterday
it was all before me
the years
the doubt
the plotting and plodding
and now I'm in autumn
on the threshold of winter
I was told I was a winter's child
though I prefer Spring
and a bounce in my heart
and flowers in the ground
freshness in the air
surrounding everything
I will never be ready to go
even at its worst
I prefer life
I've got the deepest roots
in my soul

my thoughts / written directly to the page.
January 23, 2018 11:59am PST
legal copyright for this work/poem and also
for this author/writer Melissa A. Howells
and also for this legally copyrighted website name:
Meloo Straight From Her Tilt-a-World

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